shadows cast.

shadows cast.

shadows cast
where they may reside
measures the distance
drawn out from the sun
intoxicated by spin

so here I am
on the days where
they pull longer

notes: do shadows influence us? subconsciously? I was driving to work and this revelation sort of washed over me… I mean I had the time to think about it being stuck in traffic.. but noticed how the shadows have been creeping one way, it all seems so sudden if you pay attention, the pavement is nearly a mirror, the earth does what the earth does… shadows are like anything else of matter, they want more, or is that our own protection, a backup drive for our bodies from the sun ?

cast away.

cast away.

the waning late summer sun
resting on the face
of a golden still pond
this- is- calm… (pause; inhale… hold… hold… exhale…)
“pinch me my darling,
for surely I travel in the realm of dream”
but no, a sweet captive
of the great blue marble
cast out upon the blackest sea.

notes.. and never forget, we are all on the miracle ball, sure, other life is probably out there but hey, for all we know right now we might be alone, and this is the gift of our home, the goldilocks zone, this wonderful place, even the grittiest corners are better than the alternative but we should strive to bring light to all… at least that is what I see when I catch a quick reflection of a sunset in a pond off the parkway on the way home, horrid traffic, angry drivers, asphalt plows that have flattened forests, but nature still remains, look around… (and this piece wrote itself when I was driving home on the parkway tonight, right before exit 135 (clark) there is a body of water, a pond I suppose, not sure, but it is there, I would love to photograph it, or film it, but pulling over there would be dangerous, but it looks so alluring every day, it makes me smile, the sun setting over this little unknown body of water, regardless of what is going on in the world, there is windows there, thanks to nature, look through them for a little relief… the opportunities are there)
in the moment.

in the moment.

a conjuration-
I am-
suddenly found ‘midst
an unusual sun shower
a downpour
of cherry blossom petals
a shame,
for they will never feel
the real kiss
of the true summer sun
so I must
for them

notes… this is what haiku is to me, not the form, the beauty. I was going to my car after work in the blah industrial section of Hackensack , NJ where I work, there are cherry blossoms lining the side street, warehouses line both sides, but yet… cherry blossoms are the there, in line, that attract the wild birds of the area, such as they are, we even get quaker parrots from time to time, so, there I was, in the middle of a storm, of petals… and I took a moment to inhale and observe, beauty is there in daily things.. just take a second and look for it…

a spring haiku… for you…

a spring haiku… for you…

so I was getting out of work, about 7pm today, I worked late last night, got home past 1:30 in the morning, such is my life, not a complaint, just description for your edification, I was working last night in the bronx upgrading a supermarket computer system, I think people hear “the bronx” and have wildly different mental images, the bronx is as bad as you have heard and nicer than you may have heard, it all depends on where you are, I was in the morris park section, which (like Arthur Ave) is an old Italian section, so lots of lawns converted to concrete statues and such… but really a well kept nice neighborhood, anyway, back to today, our office is in Hackensack NJ, not exactly scenic, by any stretch, perhaps to a blind man with no sense of smell, but I digress, our warehouse/office is across from another (like an ugly mirror), so on the side street I was parked between the two buildings, for some reason, for some providence, the two owners planted cherry blossoms on both sides in parallel lines, much like washington DC if you have been, or even more local here in Jersey… so anyway, I took a moment to stop, ignore the concrete ugliness and take all this in (some deep breaths)…. and the words wrote themselves… which reminded me that this is spring…

white cherry blossoms
the first, are racing to bloom
the birds are singing

Notes.. I suppose I should have snapped a photo or two… maybe I will, but this does speak to the idea of adding beauty to the urban canvas… it works.

a quick wink.

a quick wink.

soaking in the last breaths
of the smoky slumber sun

Notes… just a quick glance at the sky while driving home, even after some forty odd years on this globe I can still be amazed, the days are nearly never the same, sometimes the paint up there is just different, all just moments, snap shots, moving pictures, shorts really, all stitched together in the feature that is our life, so sometimes you have to sit back and watch the dailies to see how the whole project is going…

in the know (the crows)…

in the know (the crows)…

crows on the rooftop there-
what are they trying to tell me?
(light signals switch, black eyes twitch- looking)
they are not permanent residents
at least not in this noisy cloister murder contingent;
occupying whole oak tree and surround
what is so special about this house (now)
what draws them so here and near
why do they understand better than I
they possess any land, under, the flown sky

notes… sometimes, OK, often I look out the window… and wonder, what draws a crowd, what is the call, what am I missing? something? or nothing more than a dinner bell? or deeper?

storms like tides…

storms like tides…

no, quite literally
just moments ago
or an hour, who can be sure
the skies were black with rage
and blazing flash
rain highway sideways, pelting the windows

so temporal, all this
so trapped in moments, we become

for oh sun, now shines
how light is cast against darkness

in contrast
I feel the despair leeching out of very my skin
as if being pulled out string by string
by an invisible, palpable, force of hand – yes
and quite suddenly
I am transformed
long forgotten, the storm

First Light… (a herald)

First Light… (a herald)

“first light

first light
‘ning bug,

for spring
has truly


a hazy bulb
with a halo
wavering in
the humidity-
a diffused lens

notes… the air is like a hot towel, more like the hanging days of august than the late hours of june… but this is now, so it is, even night does not bring rest, or a reprieve, the air wants to sit like a moist heavy sleeve, just soaked enough to cling to your skin, just enough to let a breeze be revelation – for a moment’s notice that is…. and then I see them, through the mist of watering my plants, little bells of light, a delight in other times, a child’s mind, bio luminescent beings floating in the ether, either I am dreaming or summer has arrived….
blue ‘phin

blue ‘phin

Photo by Guillaume Hankenne on

in the miles of the blue
pointed eyes navigate the blur
imagine skimming
skipping along
like a trance
or a song
spinning through the air
darting among
with thrush
and a rush,
bobbing for air
when the need arise
coursing, like a vein
these are the days of pure freedom
swimming in unison
with my brethren
in these miles of the blue
stretched out in all directions

notes… I think the music fits the feel of this one… of course I am partial, I am me you know, this is my blog so…
rain dance…

rain dance…

Photo by Binyamin Mellish on

I wish the whimsical
I pray, I dance
on the drum skins of the old gods
lying forgotten in the thunderlands
I shout out, in trance
to transform this grassy prairie
into the bounty of lush forestlands
may brooks break the backs of the deep plates
and carve-cut out the roadways
for life to venture out upon
quench the sponge until overflow
from bird to bee, proliferation
all manner of life, let this be

notes… one of those that snuck into my skull, I found myself in ancient america at the foot of the grasslands, and wondered what it would have looked like if forest had extended outward coast to coast.. so this is that work…